Shorter short stories.

“Conveying more with less” has always been my forte (flipping out on people counts). Writing pages and pages of verbose, frankly speaking, bores me to death.  Here’s a collection of flash fiction I’ve written over the past few months. Hope you guys like it. Here goes.


Snip goes your tie that you wore to work each day to ogle that adulterous bitch.

“Slash goes your shirt that you unbuttoned to press flesh to flesh at your despicably secret rendezvous.”

“Splash goes the petrol.”

“Scratch goes the match.”

“May your soul burn in hell.”


 Aluminum bicarbonate copper didn’t even function going halfway into June. Thus keeping laboratories making nickle oriented pennies, quarters, radiators, some toys, umbrellas and very weak xylophones. Yielding zeros. The charts and maps were shredded and the top shareholders notified. Everyone else lost their jobs. In short, business as usual.


 

Once they laid eggs. We put them in jars, changed the privet daily in case they emerged hungry. Nothing hatched. We forgot.  Somewhere in dark lockers the summer temperature attained their liking. They escaped bullet-hard spaces into re-enclosure. Died. We found them heaped, gone crunchy, six-each-screwed-up legs sealing our guilt.


WAR GAMES                                                                                                                                                                  

The traffic-warden is not pleased to find a parking ticket on her car windscreen now she wants to drive home. The President of the United States does not own a table-tennis bat. He regrets this as his jet drones towards London and the Queen’s international ping-pong tournament.


The Most Important Day in My Life

At Fenway Park the guy passing my hot dog to me and my money to the vendor said, “I wouldn’t eat that if I were you. They put the pig’s asshole in it.” I socked him, impressing a beautiful girl, Sheila, later my ex-wife


Fool

Under the newspapers, the shopping cart was stacked with gold bouillon. The millionaire would walk alleyways in derelict disguise. This deception renounced through rationalization; theology dictating: “Everything includes a lie, and heaven is only making sport of it.” Uncovered by some less religious street acquaintances, he was robbed and bludgeoned.

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